


Dirty Heroes

by Hildigunnur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Dirty Talk, Erotica, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-03
Updated: 2007-02-03
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: Harry and Ron find the perfect thing to survive a boring Ministry function.





	Dirty Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015.
> 
> Originally written for the lovely Madame Minnie for Best Mates Xmas exchange on LJ. Beta-ed by sarka.

If yet another boring Ministry official were to give one more speech, Harry was certain he would literally keel over dead from utter boredom. There didn't seem to be anything celebratory about this celebration. Maybe he hadn't killed Voldemort after all; maybe he was being tortured. Though it was doubtful that Voldemort, as clever as he was, would have been intricate enough to have both some stiff mumble about unimportant Ministry crap and have Ron wear those brilliantly cut robes which accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow hips... too bad it was terribly rude to leave a function held in one's honour to go and have one's brains fucked out by one's boyfriend.

While life in general felt like he had just come out of a deep, long and dark valley, there were times like these that made him feel like he was still trapped. Sometimes he felt like he was living in the moment, like when he was writhing underneath Ron, savouring the sweet agony of being filled repeatedly with Ron's cock. There were also times when he knew that despite her somewhat annoying way of conveying it Hermione was right, he had a life after Voldemort and he had to do something with it.

Apparently the Ministry of Magic agreed. They wanted him. To do anything. Short of offering him the position of Minister, he had been offered to head every department and run every possible special assignment they could think of. When they had offered him to be a 'Special Orderliness and Salutariness Inspector', he had asked them if they were trying to recruit him as a janitor and from their subterfuge, it was obvious that it had been their intention. He found it funny, but even if he laughed in their faces and told them that he simply didn't see any facet of the Ministry as a career option, they still came crawling after him and this pointless celebration affair was just another attempt to butter him up. He was getting desperate waiting for them to back off and allow him to at least breathe.

"They could have had the decency to provide some proper drinks since they decided to torture us with these endless speeches," Ron said and grimaced as he downed a glass of elderflower wine. "You killed You-Know-Bloody-Who and still there's no Firewhisky. I shudder to think what a wizard has to do to get some Firewhisky around here."

"But if I knew of something even better than Firewhisky?" He placed his hand over Ron's.

"Too bad we are stuck here until they finally see fit to give you that medal," Ron sighed.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Harry got up and headed toward the men's room but took care to give Ron the slightest of nods over his shoulder. It was all that was needed and mere seconds after Harry had entered the bathroom, he found himself pushed against the counter while Ron crushed his lips against his.

He allowed himself to get lost in their kiss, feeling the soft velvet of Ron's robes underneath his fingers, covering the rock-hard muscles. Though it was him who initiated this, he was now caught in the stream, going under.

And it agreed with Ron being in charge. Almost ripping Harry's clothes apart, exposing his neck, licking, nipping his way down, pushing his robes apart. The grazes, Ron's tongue, every touch - Harry's skin was so sensitive that it felt like electrical sparks.

"Off!" he growled, tugging at Ron's robes. The fact that his wand was on the counter besides him didn't register at all. His sole thought was that he wanted Ron naked and inside him – now.

It was fortunate that Ron was still hanging on to a couple of conscious thoughts; like remembering to magically seal the door and making sure that Harry's wand wouldn't get crushed underneath him.

Harry, however, was having none of that, writhing on the countertop with his trousers hanging around his ankles.

"Ron," his voice wavered between being commanding and whining.

He felt the smile on Ron's lips when he returned to kissing him, coaxing Harry's mouth open, sucking on his tongue. There were thousand promises in that kiss and Harry wanted every single one fulfilled right now.

And Ron obliged. Pulling at his robes, he pushed them open and undid his fly. Harry inhaled sharply when he felt the smooth skin on Ron's long and very hard cock touch his, and his slick hand enveloped their cocks.

Resting his back against the mirror behind him and lifting his hips from the countertop, Harry thrust into Ron's tight grip, gasping at the exquisite friction.

"Oh, you like it, you little slut," Ron breathed into his ear, tugging hard at his cock, causing Harry to moan. "You want me fucking you hard and fast. Bang you so the mirror will crack with the force."

"Fuck me right now," Harry growled as he grabbed a fistful of Ron's hair, jerking his head back.

He didn't see the need for Ron pushing spit-wet fingers through the ring of muscle of his arsehole. Tugging at Ron, Harry spread his thighs wantonly. It proved to be enough. Taking hold and lifting Harry's legs up, Ron positioned himself and Harry felt the almost torturing pressure of the blunt head of Ron's cock. Clenching his jaw, he waited for Ron sink in to the hilt.

When fully sheathed, Ron pulled Harry towards him slightly and pulled back. Harry groaned at the loss but was cut short when Ron thrust into him, slamming him against the mirror. Harry felt how the flat surface of the mirror no longer felt cold to his back but sticky with perspiration.

Soon the men's room echoed with moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Bracing himself by holding on to a faucet and a water basin, Harry met every thrust and every slam from Ron, who was being true to his word and fucking him so hard that Harry was sure that he would end up with some injuries and it was just what he wanted. He didn't want to feel like a bloody hero, some concept forever stuck up on a pedestal. He wanted to feel like a hot-blooded man, alive and full of wanting and desire, and Ron really knew how to make him feel that way. By filling him so completely, Ron made every fibre of Harry's body sing like there was a fucking orchestra accompanying them.

His nerves were coiling up, his muscles growing taut and for a fleeting second he felt as if he were suspended on the edge of an abyss. Then he flew off, arching up, his steadying grip slipping, his toes curling, muscles spasming and a voice in the distance, without doubt his own, crying out as a pair of strong arms held him through the tidal wave of euphoria that robbed him of all his senses.

Spiralling down from the high he Ron following him off the cliff, gripping his thighs so hard it would leave bruises and spilling himself inside Harry. Even if every muscle in his body felt so sated that he wasn't sure whether he could move again, he allowed himself the tiniest of smiles as Ron slumped against his chest.

As Harry was about to drift off into temporary blissful stupor, he caught something moving in his peripheral vision. Someone was attempting to sneak out of the room. Someone with a familiar mane of gray-streaked hair.

"Scrimgeour?" he called before he could stop himself.The Minister of Magic froze as he was about to push on the winged doors.  
"Eh ... hello, Harry," he said in the sort of feeble voice that only someone who had, much to his embarrassment, caught people having sex.

Ron had pulled himself off Harry and was, like Harry, watching the Minister, albeit only with mild curiosity.

"Yeah, I'll just leave you to it then," Scrimgeour said in an uncharacteristically squeaky voice and tried unsuccessfully to push on the magically sealed doors. Harry and Ron both snorted loudly and they could see how Scrimgeour's face was gradually turning bright fuchsia. 

"Hey, Minister. I can let you out but you must promise to see to it that no more stuffy Ministry blokes will give speeches. Just hand over that bloody reward so we can all go home. Otherwise Harry and I will just have another shag here to kill the time." 

The Minister had turned puce but appeared to be uttering something that they had to take as an affirmative answer, so Ron took pity on him and unlocked the doors with the flick of his wand. 

"I'm almost prepared to fight Voldemort again if it meant I had the slightest chance of seeing that look on Scrimgeour's face again." 

"Harry, I'm ready to fuck you in the bloody Fountain of Magical Brethren in front of all the members of the Wizengamot just to see Scrimgeour turn puce again." 

"And that's worse than fighting Voldemort?" he asked, sliding of the countertop and facing Ron. "

Umbrigde will be watching you having sex," Ron said with a smirk. 

"Ah, point taken."  
-fin.


End file.
